


Closet of Bones

by threeplusfire



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: Blow Jobs, Halloween Costumes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8422624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeplusfire/pseuds/threeplusfire
Summary: “It’s Halloween, Ross. Even Smiffy is wearing a costume.” Sips wiggled the door knob. An attempt to find Ross a Halloween costume goes awry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of Halloween fun, dedicated to Toast_Senpai as a thank you for their delightful writing. 
> 
> Many thanks to Leon for assistance in fixing up the end and edits.

Music drifted down the halls, too loud in whatever confined space it came from originally, and only half audible by the time it reached his office. Ross set his phone on his desk, and plugged it into a charger. Rolling his shoulders, Ross settled his headphones back on his head. There were still a half dozen spots that needed the soundtracking adjusted on the video. He was trying to take advantage of the relative quiet in here while the Halloween party kicked off upstairs.

Sips stuck his head around the door, glancing around the room.

“Hey, how come you’re not partying?” Sips asked. His costume was one of those idiosyncratic choices that Ross couldn’t quite parse. It was either just something Sips pulled out of the back of his closet, or an astonishingly authentic Miami Vice costume. His shirt almost glowed with bright blue palm trees silhouetted against a technicolor sunset, and Ross was pretty sure those jeans were acid washed. The beer in his hand only completed the look.

“Some of us are working, Sips.”

“It’s Halloween, Ross!” Sips scoffed. “Come have a drink, or two, or four. Watch Smiffy bob for apples or something.” He ambled into the room, back to Ross’ corner.

“Nobody bobs for apples here, it’s not 1893.” Ross rolled his eyes. Sips flipped him off.

“Whatever. Come have a beer with me.” Sips nudged Ross, pushing on his chair.

“Later.” Ross shook his head as Sips tugged off Ross’ headphones. “I have-”

“Ross,” Sips sighed with disapproval. “You’re missing the fun.” He stared long and hard at Ross.

With a heavy sigh, Ross caved and shut off his computer. The drives spun down with a mournful sound. The machine was slowly dying, and he just wanted it to make it to the end of the year without another massive hardware failure.

“I’ve got an idea! Let’s go find you something in that props closet off the studio!” Sips looked pleased with himself.

“I don’t need a costume.” Ross tried to protest but Sips grabbed his arm to pull him out of his chair. Ross wondered if he was already drunk. The office had started drinking long before the day ended.

“Come on, Ross! Live a little.” Sips cajoled him. “Trott and Smiffy are all dressed up.”

The music was even louder in the hall, spilling down from the open door near the stairs. He could even hear the vague hint of voices and laughter.

“I agreed to the drink, not a costume.”

“You can’t go without something to wear besides your Super Dry uniform.” Sips poked Ross in the chest. Ross batted his hand away, shaking his head.

“Fuck off.” It happened to be his favorite shirt, comfortable from a thousand washings.

“It’s Halloween, Ross. Even Smiffy is wearing a costume.” Sips wiggled the door knob. 

“You’re not dressed up.”

Sips shot him a dirty look over his shoulder, and huffed in annoyance.

“I left my mask upstairs. You can’t drink through the damn thing. You think I just walk around dressed like this?”

“Right…” Ross racked his brain for what the hell Sips could be. “Hotline Miami!”

“That’s right.” Sips cocked an imaginary gun. “Here to take out all you motherfuckers.”

The studio space was dark, only the light from the hall illuminating the control board and the desk. Sips pushed his way past some chairs to the little door in the back, tugging it open on deeper darkness.

“There’s a light in here somewhere…” he muttered, batting at the wall. Ross hit the switch by the door. Immediately one of the two bulbs fizzled and popped, leaving the room dimly lit.

“What the fuck?” Sips stared at the ceiling open mouthed.

“Turps was supposed to replace that,” Ross said with a shrug. “I think he sent Sam to Tesco for bulbs. The downstairs toilets are half out, too.”

Ross shouldered past Sips to poke desultorily at the racks of costumes. The storage room wasn’t very large to begin with. Add in a rolling rack overstuffed with garments, a few stacks of plastic bins and a pile of foam rubber weapons, there was hardly room to walk around in there.

“Well, find yourself something pretty.” Sips leaned on the door frame, drinking the last of his beer. He chucked it into the trashcan with a thud.

“I’m not changing in front of you, you pervert.” Ross wondered if the Han Solo costume was still in here. He knew that fit. It felt too warm for one of the numerous onesies in there. Everything smelled of sweat and body odor. Ross wondered if any of the stuff had ever gotten cleaned.

“Aww, are you feeling shy?” Sips stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut. “I won’t laugh, I promise.”

“Oh fuck off, and get out of here.” Ross flipped him off. “You can murder me after I change.”

“I’m not gonna kill you, I’ll just fuck you up and steal your wallet.” Sips pushed on the door. It rattled, firmly shut. “Aww, shit.”

“What do you mean aww shit? That door better not be locked.” Ross glared over his shoulder, trying to dig through the rack of clothes.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’ll get it open,” Sips huffed. He shoved the door, trying to wiggle the handle.

“Fuck, I cannot be stuck in here.” Ross stumbled over a pile of foam weapons, trying to reach the door. “Hey! Hey! Somebody, unlock this fucking door!”

“They probably can’t hear us over the music,” Sips said helpfully.

“Fuck!” Ross smacked the door again. He reached for his phone, only to remember it was sitting uselessly on his desk. “Where’s your phone, Sips?”

“What? Oh. Probably in my jacket upstairs.” Sips patted his pockets and shrugged.

“Are you fucking kidding me…” Ross leaned his head on the door. There were a million things he needed to do before next week, and none of them included being locked in a closet with Sips. The light overhead flickered again.

“Hey, you could wear one of those D&D costumes.” Sips pawed through the overstuffed rack. “You wanna be a wizard?”

“I can’t think about that right now,” Ross snapped.

“What do you mean, this is the perfect time to think about costumes! You’re not going anywhere.” Sips chuckled. His good humor was beginning to wear on Ross.

“This is your fault.” Ross tried shouldering the door open to no avail. He stumbled back, colliding with Sips in the narrow, cramped space.

“Hey, watch it.” Sips knocked into one of the stacks against the wall. They both yelped as one of the towers of bins tilted precariously. The racket sounded thunderous in the tiny space, and the spill of bins blocked the door. Costumes and accessories formed a multicolored avalanche, forcing them back into a tiny space.

“Whoa.” Sips looked around.

The lightbulb overhead flickered and popped, leaving them in darkness.

“Fuck!” Sips shouted. He grabbed Ross’ shoulder. “Jeez! This fucking office is a death trap.”

“Really?” Ross groaned, trying to untangle their feet from the foam swords.

“Some party,” Sips said. His hand lingered on Ross’ back, heavy and warm.

“Yeah.”

“Well at least you can change in the dark now without worrying about me seeing your weiner.”

“I’m not changing clothes.”

“Aww Ross, come on.”

“How long do you think it will take for someone to come find us?” asked Ross. His eyes were adjusting to the almost dark. The outlines of the mess existed as a varying shades of black, and light from the studio came through the gaps in the door frame.

“Beats me.” Sips tightened his hand on Ross’ shoulder.

“Scared of the dark?” Ross quipped. He was hyper aware of the sensation of Sips’ fingers digging in ever so slightly, rubbing against the thin t-shirt fabric.

“No,” Sips said. “Just trying to keep my balance in here.”

Ross stood up with a heavy sigh. They were close, hemmed in by the mess of stuff. There was only a foot or two of space to shuffle around in, along the front of the rolling rack. Sips’ breath was hot on the back of his neck. His fingers skated down Ross’ sides, a touch so light it almost tickled.

“Guess we’ll have to have our own party in here,” Sips said.

“Some party,” Ross said with a small laugh.

“Just two guys, in the closet.” Sips chuckled. “We’re in the closet, Ross.”

“Fuck off,” Ross said, exasperated and amused all at once.

“What have you got against dudes being dudes together, in the closet? Huh?”

Ross snorted. He shifted his feet, wondering if he could clear enough space to try the door again. His fumbling caused another minor avalanche, this time of the rest of the big prop weapons.

“Ross!”

“Sorry!” Ross tried to shove the fake swords back into a corner.

“Quit moving around-”

“I’m trying to put these-”

“Ross, jeez!” Sips pushed him against the wall as another pile of bins crashed down.

“Sorry!” Ross groaned as the noise subsided. The mess took up most of the floor now, nearing waist high. In the gloom, he couldn’t tell what was what. Hopefully they hadn’t destroyed anything. But perhaps the noise would attract someone’s attention, and they could get out of here.

Sips sighed. He was close enough that Ross felt the puff of his breath.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck in the closet, and I don’t even have a beer.”

“Priorities,” Ross laughed. He wondered if he tried to sit down if that would cause another avalanche of crap. Sips shifted from foot to foot in front of him.

“What are we gonna do in here?” asked Ross.

“You ever play seven minutes in heaven as a kid?” Sips asked, his voice unexpectedly serious.

“What? No?”

“Really?” laughed Sips. “Wanna try it?”

“Is this a sex thing?” asked Ross dubiously.

“You’re cute when you’re clueless.” Ross felt Sips grip the front of shirt, fabric twisted in his fist. Sips’ knuckles rested against his sternum.

“You can’t even see me in here, Sips.”

Ross felt his face heat up. He could just barely make out Sips in the dark, his face unsettlingly close. The moment stretched, almost too long and Ross half expected another joke when Sips kissed him. His lips parted almost involuntarily at the pressure, the surprisingly soft feel of Sips’ mouth. Ross stood stock still for a beat, too surprised to react or kiss back. Sips shifted his head, and one of his hands cupped the back of Ross’ head. He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing Ross’ lips. It made Ross shiver, a little noise escaping him. Sips pulled back slightly, leaning his forehead against Ross.

“Well, if you’re not gonna put on a costume we might as well play games in the closet.”

“Sure,” Ross breathed. He felt his heart pounding. The dark made this all seem closer and stranger. They’d flirted, all of them, nigh endlessly. Ross had even kept talking after they were done, later in the evening while he was working and Sips just fucking around on the internet. But he’d never imagined it really going further. There’s never been an opportunity. Not like this, anyways.

Sips’ stubble scratched at his neck as he kissed the soft places of Ross’ throat. Ross moaned, arching his back. Sips pushed him against the wall, his hands on Ross’ shoulders. The wall felt cool through the his shirt, in contrast to Sips.

“Is that a beer in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” Ross panted.

“I came here to do two things- drink beer and fuck,” Sips said. His breath warmed Ross’ neck. “And I’m all out of beer.”

“Fuck,” Ross groaned as Sips ground against him. He felt himself getting hard, the warmth of their bodies sliding against each other.

“You like being kissed in closets, Ross?” Sips pressed one of his legs between Ross’ knees. He shoved his hand between them to squeeze the bulge in Ross’ jeans.

“Is that your thing? Being in the closet? That get you turned on?”

“Fuck you,” Ross mumbled. He slid a hand up the back of Sips’ shirt.

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

Sips kissed him again, pushing his tongue into Ross’ mouth like they were horny teenagers. Ross moaned, hands fumbling at Sips. He tried to remember the last time he made out with anyone with this sense of urgency and arousal. When Sips finally broke the kiss, he half laughed.

“Fuck, Ross, you are into this. You think about kissing boys in the closet a lot?”

“I want to suck your dick,” Ross burst out. He was grateful for the dark, making it easier to say the thing that had been on his mind for far too long. He wondered if he had gone too far for a breath, before Sips dragged Ross’ hand to his zipper.

“Well, no one’s stopping you,” Sips said in a quiet voice.

Ross palmed his erection, feeling a weird thrill that Sips was hard because of him. Awkwardly, he sank to his knees. The gloom hid the flush in his face, and all his uncertainty. Sure he’d thought about it. Sure he’d jerked off over the idea. Sure he’d had some experience doing this kind of thing. But the real thing made his stomach flip with nerves, a shivering hum running through his mind.

Ross pressed his face to Sips’ hip as he unfastened his jeans, and slid his hand into Sips’ boxers. Sips was half hard already, the soft heat of his skin under Ross’ palm as he pulled Sips’ dick free.

“That’s it, there you go,” Sips encouraged. He cupped Ross’ cheek with one hand, and braced himself against the wall with the other.

“Christ Sips, have you ever heard of a trimmer?” Ross could feel the thick, curly hair tickling at the back of his hand.

“Nothing wrong with having some hair,” Sips chuckled, but his nonchalance was spoiled by the sharp intake of breath when Ross licked the tip of his cock curiously.

Emboldened by the way Sips’ cock twitched in his hand, Ross took it into his mouth. His tongue lapped at the smooth skin, along the head of Sips’ cock and down to the unseen tangle of hair. Sips cursed, breathless and indistinct as Ross mouthed along the length of his shaft.

Ross lost himself in the motions, his mouth moving up and down along Sips’ cock, the slide and twist of his hand, dragging his tongue over the head when he pulled back. The wet sounds of his mouth, and Sips’ heavy breathing filled his ears. They would speed up and slow down, Sips’ cock jerking and straining in his grip.

“Fuck, Ross.” Sips’ voice grew harsh, and his hips pushed forward. Ross choked a little as Sips held his head and fucked his mouth.

“Coming,” Sips gasped out, and Ross sucked harder. Above him, Sips groaned. His cock twitched, and Ross had to pull back to keep from choking on the come filling his mouth. He held still, rubbing his tongue along the underside of Sips’ cock until he was done.

Panting, Ross let his head drop. He closed his eyes, swallowing against the unfamiliar bitterness in his mouth. He felt Sips shifting next to him, putting himself back into his jeans and doing up his zipper.

“C’mere.” Sips dragged him to his feet. Ross’ knees ached, as well as his jaw. But he felt almost giddy.

“You’re better at that than I figured. I pegged Smiffy for the cocksucker of the group.”

“Well.” Ross laughed. He moaned softly as Sips unbuckled his belt.

“What are you doing?”

Sips slid his hand into Ross’ underwear.

“What do you think I’m doing, Ross?” His fingers curled around Ross’ cock, stroking him. Ross pressed his face to Sips’ shoulder, fingers digging into Sips’ upper arms. The steady, firm grip felt too good. Sips’ breath tickled his ear.

“You liked that, huh? Sucking my dick?”

Ross’ muffled groan was enough to make Sips laugh quietly.

“You sure seemed into it.” Sips slid his hand lower, squeezing Ross’ balls.

Sips put a hand on Ross’ shoulder, pushing on him none too gently to turn Ross towards the wall. He had to brace himself on his forearms, catching his foot in some unseen swirl of fabric and knocking into one of the overturned bins. Sips reached around, taking hold of Ross’ cock again as he pressed himself firmly against Ross from behind.

“Should take it out of the closet sometime, Ross, have some fun.”

“Fuck you, Sips.”

“Nah, you want _me_ to fuck _you_.” Sips thrust his hips hard into Ross, chuckling as Ross whimpered. “You’d like that, huh?”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Ross gasped. He’d never quite gotten that far in his fantasies. But now that he was thinking about it, the idea sounded pretty damn good. He wished they’d done this first, so he could have felt Sips hard against him.

As Ross’ panting moans grew louder, Sips clapped a hand over his mouth. Something about the gesture, and the way Sips leaned all his weight into Ross to push him closer to the wall, completely unmade him. Ross moaned, mouth open against Sips’ palm. His hips bucked into Sips’ strokes, rapidly losing any control he had left.

“That’s it, come on Ross, you can do it.”

Ross came with a muffled curse, jerking and shaking. Pleasure blanked out his thoughts, so that he was only focused on the wet press of Sips’ hands on his mouth and cock. He barely registered Sips letting go to wipe his hand along Ross’ stomach, or the wet smear of his own come sticking his shirt to his skin. Pressing his cheek to the wall, Ross closed his eyes. His heartbeat drummed in his ears, and it took several minutes for his breath to slow. Sips tucked him back into his underwear, and fixed up his clothes. His hands were gentle, resting on Ross’ lower back.

“You alright there?” Sips asked.

“Yeah.” Ross swallowed, trying to settle himself. Sips rubbed his hands up and down Ross’ back in a companionable silence. It made Ross drowsy. He closed his eyes, one arm braced against the wall to cushion his forehead. The soothing touch of Sips’ hands lulled him into an almost doze.

“Ross? Are you in here, you twat?” Trott’s voice startled Ross, sounding strangely close by. He shook his head to clear the hazy feeling. The light around the door dimmed and brightened.

“Trott?” Ross called out, smacking the wall with his palm. He straightened up, and Sips dropped his hands.

 _“Ross?_ ”

“In here!” Ross staggered over a bin to the door, jiggling the knob. It jerked open under his hand. Trott stared into the dark room, frowning. He had on a shiny black cloak, and there was fake blood smeared from his mouth to his chin.

“What the fuck are you-” Costumes and props spilled out the doorway, and Ross struggled to move the bins so they could escape.

“Thanks Trott,” Sips said nonchalantly, pushing out the door. He gave Ross a smack on the ass as he squeezed past, hard enough to make Ross jump. “Got stuck in there finding Ross a costume. Someone should really fix that door.”

“Uh huh.” Trott’s eyes narrowed as Sips waltzed past. He stared at Ross, chewing on his lip with his plastic fangs.

“We were looking for a costume,” Ross said, waving his hand at the mess.

“Yeah.” Trott reached out, and grabbed the hem of Ross’ shirt. “You’ve got jizz on your shirt.”

“Shit.” Ross flushed, and jerked back from Trott’s laughter. He liked this shirt too. Now he was just going to think about this every time he wore it.

“Guess you better change, sunshine.” Trott grinned around his fake teeth. “There’s black lights upstairs, you’d light up like a Christmas tree.”

“Oh fuck _off_ ,” Ross groaned.

“Don’t want to see where else Sips jizzed on you.”

“It’s not - nevermind.” Ross flipped him off, and the lightbulb overhead flickered briefly. Trott cackled, flapping his cloak while helping Ross gather up the costumes spilling out into the studio.

Trott leaned on the door, propping it open while Ross struggled to pull a heavy wizard robe over his head. He didn’t trust himself not to look at Sips later, and get inappropriately, awkwardly hard. At least all the fabric would make it easier to hide if he did.

“Was it good?” Trott asked, pulling his shiny cloak across his chest.

“Do you really expect me to answer that?” Ross glanced sideways at him.

Trott smiled, and clicked his fangs.

“Kinda, yeah. As good as you imagined?”

Ross flipped him off, fussing with the belt. He kept his gaze down, avoiding looking directly at Trott.

“Maybe better than I imagined.” The admission left him red faced again. Trott laughed. Ross wondered if he could just sneak out of the office entirely.

“C’mon, let's get you a beer. Celebrate your coming out of the closet.” Trott grinned at him, pulling Ross out of the mess and back towards the party.

 


End file.
